Fable Legacies
by TwinBl4de
Summary: This is your story. This is his legacy. From the time he was a child, until he was no more. For every choice, there is a consequence, for every love there is hate, for every life... there is death. Please read, rate, and review!


Fable- Legacies 

CHAPTER ONE

_They say the winds bring new hope. That the legends forged in this kingdom, are swept away and carried to the gods themselves. Whatever the winds may bring to this kingdom, they can't steal hope. And that is what makes this boy, this mere child of an inferior father and mother, such hope for this kingdom. He lays in bed now, now at this late hour, awaiting the joyful smile of his father to wake him from his rest. But he has a larger secret awaiting him. And you know that. You certainly know that. Don't you remember? These were your final words to me, my child. Then you chose a path, a path in which only a fool could follow. And I couldn't. So I let you go. And what did I get for it? You honestly don't remember? Ha! You killed me, my old friend. And now, now, I have to make right what you made wrong. So goodbye, my child. Such a pity. I thought that the hope of the kingdom would be you._

_Dawn. In my opinion, the saddest time of day. Knowing that somewhere, someone has dropped cold on the floor, never to let themselves be picked back up. Death. "It's tragic", says the man who weeps, "It's hope of better life", says the man in church, "It's my duty", says the man more fortunate. But me? I say nothing. I SAID nothing. And that is why it can't be me, of all of them in this damned kingdom. It's not me! And I hear the voice of my father. That voice of whom I thought was foolish. But how wrong I was. He is the very essence of why I exist. And one day, or so she said, I will have to choose between him or myself. It's not fear that dominates my decision, but anxiety. Who would I choose? I must awake. For I know that somewhere, somehow, someone is looking for me. I greet them with open arms, for they have nothing to see but a black hole._

The boy can almost smell the blood of his sisters heart, pumping a thousand times before she even bothers to speak. Annoyance? No. She is his sister, and he mustn't think that way of her. Even still, like a wasp eying a boy, the thought lingers in his mind, never looking away from its prey.

"C'mon Benjamin!" Says she. Benjamin. It's always the same name from his family.

"Ugh, what hour is it? I'm 10 years, sister, I need rest." The boy says frustrated.

"You don't know do you? It's my BIRTHDAY! And you need to buy me a present!", She demands.

_I need to buy you a present, the boy thinks to himself. This little pest DEMANDS it? No. She is my sister not a pest. It's her birthday. She does deserve one for helping me get father back from the bandits. But then again, father owes me his life. He sighs._

"Alright then!" He says, pretending to be in a better mood. He jumps out of bed, to his sisters excitement. "Now it's time you leave me alone so I can get dressed. Unless, you'd like to stay?"

"Eww! Gross! I'll be in my room. You have 30 tick tocks!" She leaves.

_Tick tocks. What a childish word. Then again she is only 7, well, 8 now that it's her birthday._ The boy thinks to himself for another moment, then locks the door, strips his nightwear and looks in his bookshelf filled with clothes. He is careful in what he dresses in. To him, his appearance must not be threatening at sight, but he must be able to intimidate someone wishing him harm. He chooses a pair of short pants and a raggedy, tarnished white shirt with sleeves almost weathered off from his wear. Gloves. He is going to need gloves today. He is assisting his father in blacksmith work. He never imagined himself a blacksmith. Boots. He was an active boy. He was bound to get in a foot race with at least one of the local children, one who he found fast enough to be of some challenge to him.

He grabbed a comb to quickly fix his hair, but instead, he was caught by his reflection in the mirror. Even he himself could not hold back the fact he was a fairly attractive boy. He had medium, somewhat spiked up brownish-blonde hair. His nose was sloped and came to a point. His dark blue eyes glowed in the mirror. His narrow mouth, leaning outward like it was trying to work it's way out of his body. His teeth, straighter than almost anyone's in the town of Oakvale.

He looked like a hero. He acted like one. But he didn't long to become one. If not a hero, what was he?


End file.
